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[personal profile] stonebender
Last night, almost 24 hours ago I passed out. [personal profile] loracs and I were coming back from a movie after having eaten Thanksgiving dinner. I had some gastric distress and felt pretty tired. So I asked [personal profile] loracs to put me to bed. I went to the bathroom, but still wasn't feeling so good. I had her put me to bed and roll me on my side half way onto my stomach. So I could try to squeeze out the Hindenburg of gas still in my intestines.

My head was on a pillow and my nose was a little stuffed, but I felt fine. She put the blanket on me to keep me warm and the sheet fell over my face. I knew it was there but it didn't seem to obstruct my breathing and I only planned to be laying on my side for a few minutes. I thought about asking her to remove the sheet, but I honestly felt fine about leaving it there.

[personal profile] loracs went to the study to give me some privacy, and I got to work. After a while, I started having trouble getting my breath. I wasn't scared, it wasn't a big deal. It was just uncomfortable. So I called [personal profile] loracs. No answer. I called louder and still no answer. I kept calling trying to get louder, but I started feeling like I couldn't breathe at all.

I tried to calm down. I tried to concentrate on breathing, but I didn't feel like I was getting much oxygen. Pippin, my dog, jumped on the bed and did what she usually does which is go get [personal profile] loracs. At least I think she went to [personal profile] loracs. I did hear her bark, but Pippin has been barking more lately because we are doing some home remodeling and she doesn't enjoy all the changes. I tried one more time to call [personal profile] loracs and still couldn't call out loud enough. Things started getting blurry and darker. I felt my throat completely close up. The last thing I remember thinking was: What a stupid way to die...

The next thing I knew, there were three big burly guys in my bedroom asking me questions. "Do you know who the president is?"

"Obama?" I answered.

"How old are you?"

"55"

"What year is it?"

I turned to [personal profile] loracs because the answer wouldn't come immediately. She shrugged waiting for my answer and then it came to me. "2013"

The answers seemed to satisfy them. I noticed every breath I took improved my mental state. Turns out they checked my O2 and it was at 92%. 95 to 100 is what I've been told is normal. I already felt like my O2 level was going up. After my bout with pneumonia years ago, I have some experience with these things. The paramedics wanted me to go to the hospital. They checked my heart and it seemed to be functioning normally. I tried to tell them that, because of my disability, I was unable to move my head when my airway got obstructed. I think they thought there was some other cause but I was pretty sure there wasn't.

So I'm fine now, but it was scary. [personal profile] loracs said when she came to check on me I was blue and unresponsive. She dialed 911 and tried to get me to react. She was just getting ready to try what she remembered of CPR when my eyes opened and I seemed to start breathing. I don't remember any of this. I really only came to after the paramedics got here.

I'll call my regular doctor after the holidays just to double check, but I'm feeling physically normal and only periodically freaked out for a minute or two.

[personal profile] loracs is blaming herself and I feel like if she is at fault, I'm at least 50% at fault as well. I thought about telling her to move the sheet, but it really didn't feel like it was obstructing my breathing, until it started obstructing my breathing. It was an accident. A scary accident. I'm certainly glad she was here to revive me.
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